


Shuck

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [91]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Anal Sex, Barebacking, HYDRA Husbands, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, Treat, Wing Grooming, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 18:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Jack's never seen Brock's wings before.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [91]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48
Collections: Multifandom Tropefest 2019





	Shuck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).

> Giving my friendo some treats <3 (5/5)

He shouldn’t be awake. He’s dead tired and they have to get up at sunrise; but there’s a sensation, a feeling that hits him just as he spies movement in the bathroom of the crappy motel room Jack and the rest of the team have holed up in.

Naturally, he’s paired with Brock who’s currently in front of the mirror and _fuck_, Jack rubs at his eyes to make sure he’s seeing things correctly because Jesus. He knew Brock had wings despite hiding them by binding them down. He just never mentioned how beautiful they were. A part of him wished he had more time to savor them, to stare like it was a day off when they were hanging out instead of needing rest before continuing on in the morning and getting done the work they were ordered to get done.

“Why are you awake right now?” He asks, squinting against the light coming from the bathroom. 

Brock’s positioned so his back is facing the mirror, one of his wings extended out as he apparently tries to groom it, though whatever he’s using doesn’t seem to be doing its job. He realizes it’s one of those grooming brushes he’s seen a few times in his life and realizes Brock’s probably forgotten to pack his longer one. Brock startles to the sound of Jack’s voice, his other wing striking out and knocking a few hair products off the counter just before he curses under his breath.

“The fuck ya think I’m doin’?” Brock bites out sullenly. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s late-night preening, so that’s always a good sign.

Jack stares stupidly from the bed for a few long seconds, Brock glaring over his shoulder at the mirror while still trying to use the special comb to get to one particular spot he can’t reach right. The yellowing bathroom light against Brock’s tan bare shoulders makes something within Jack feel lousy, like he doesn’t deserve to suffer under the circumstances. It’s what gets him to pull back the covers and edge towards the end of the mattress.

“Did you pack oil with you?”

Brock shoots him a dirty look as Jack approaches. “Who the hell would forget their oil, I ain’t an idiot.”

Jack wonders if it’s even worth dealing with Brock’s ire but sees the bottle of it on the counter, one of the items his startled wing didn’t knock over. “You forgot to pack your long comb, it was a valid question. I can go back to bed if you don’t want my help.” 

Brock weighs out the options in his head, though Jack assumes he doesn’t have anyone else to ask for help. He sure as hell wouldn’t be asking anyone from the team, despite Brock trusting them with his life, and he bets if it’s not done, Brock will be irate about it and not sleep the whole rest of the night.

“My mother.” Jack offers, his voice soft because he doesn’t normally get into his personal life. “She had wings. I grew up knowing how to help her groom them. I’ll be gentle.”

It takes Brock a long moment, but eventually he nods, holding out the comb. “‘Ere. Jus need the back ones done, yer sure ya know what the hell yer doin’?”

“Yes.” He says back, voice slightly clipped. Jack’s used to taking Brock’s orders, he’s not used to being second guessed about them. He’s more awake now, and doesn’t glare back at the hard look Brock gives him one last time before turning his back to him, stretching one wing out.

His covert feathers are a blue-grey while his primaries are dipped in a deep black and accented with white spots. Jack touches Brock’s feathers with delicate care, gingerly nudging so Brock extends them further out for him so he has better access. They don’t talk about it, but the silence is nice, more than comfortable. Sometimes Jack comes back to his senses, wonders if he’s still off dreaming under the covers, but when he realizes he’s not, it’s fine and enjoys the contact of such smooth feathers. 

“Thanks.” Brock mutters when he’s finished. Jack’s still fascinated when he watches him fluff them up and stretch them a little like he’s making sure he has a feel for them before they tuck back in against his back.

“No problem.” Jack says back as he tucks the comb away for Brock into his travel bag. He’s still not sure if he’s completely awake, it’s still a little weird to know what his CO’s wings feel like under his fingertips but he does and there isn’t anything else much to say about that. He climbs back into bed and falls asleep before he ever has a moment of thought to himself. They have an early morning start, and he’ll be lucky if he can catch a solid three hours before they have to pack up. There’s a scent of Brock’s aftershave and oil lingering around, gives him a strange comfort as he’s temporarily lost to the world.

*****

One tough mission ending in success leads to a weekend of fun and for some, debauchery. It’s a lot of pointless amusement; unwinding with booze, a little bit of recreational drugs and slices of artery clogging pizza to gorge out on. 

It’s a good time to have your feet up and relax amongst all the chaos. That is until someone doesn’t know how to shut up about equal rights around someone that doesn’t want to be pulled into the conversation but gets other people tuning in. 

“Things are different now.” Steve offers as he gestures out towards Brock lurking near the table covered in open pizza boxes. “We have Commanders that have wings, back in my day no one wanted to talk to them. If you ask me, the more the merrier.” He raises the bottle of beer he’s been nursing for the past hour since he can’t get drunk like a salute and Jack rolls his eyes.

Usually he’d keep his mouth shut, Cap means well most of the time, but Brock’s clearly not in the mood to join in despite the attention thrown his way. He watches him forgo the pizza and gets another beer before inserting himself into a conversation with Natasha and Maria, back turned to the rest of the crowd there.

“Gotta take those social cue lessons, Cap. Sometimes people don’t want to thank their lucky stars about things done in the past to ‘em. Sometimes they just wanna be in the present without any history lessons.” 

Bucky jumps on the opportunity to mock Steve about his  _ back in the day _ commentary as he usually does, who argues back and Jack takes it as a chance to get the hell out of there and head home for the night. He catches Brock watching him from where he’s sitting as he passes by, his expression unreadable. Jack doesn’t let himself think about it as he pulls his leather jacket on after putting the beer mug on the bar counter and takes off outside.

*****

He makes a pit stop at the bodega across from his apartment and Brock’s there when he arrives to the front lobby doors, hands stuffed in his pocket and a brow raised his way in some sort of expectation. Jack never asks though, just lets them both into the lobby, and then suddenly it hits him how alone in an elevator he is with Brock. He’s kind of had it in for him for a long time, not something he’s admitted to even himself, but knows it’s there sitting at a low simmer, he’s just not sure how he’s going to feel in a few minutes with how close Brock is standing next to him.

They’re almost at his floor when Brock makes his move. 

“Ya wanna?” he asks, looking over at him with heavy-lidded eyes. If that wasn’t enough of a clue as to what he was talking about, drags his fingers inward against Jack’s thigh, dangerously close to where his dick is starting to take an interest in the proceedings.

“Yeah.” Jack croaks, clearing his throat to get the word out. “Yeah, I wanna.”

They make it into his apartment after a few quick strides, and then they’re fumbling at each other’s clothes. Jack ends up on his knees, sucking marks along Brock’s thighs while he’s above him, unfastening the bindings on his wings. When Brock finally gets them free, he stretches them out and Jack looks up at them in awe, shivering as the rush of cool air hits his overheated skin.

“Get up, _c'mon_.” Brock breathlessly orders, and Jack does, gets led to his bedroom.

Brock pushes him down to the mattress and apparently Jack doesn’t have to say anything about lube when he pulls out a bottle of it from his back pocket before crawling on top of him, his wings spread out for balance.

“Do you always have lube on hand?” Jack asks, staring at the way his wings lie around them like a blanket.

That makes Brock smirk, amused. “Only when I know what I want.”

Jack can’t help running his hands along taut, muscled skin, his thumbs teasing against pert nipples as Brock works himself open, entranced by the noises coming out of his mouth. It’s not long before Brock is slapping at his arm and jostling Jack back into reality.

“Condom?”

Brock shakes his head, his ass pushing back at the head of his cock, and it takes the last of his willpower not to hold him still and just go ahead with it. “I know yer clean, jus do it.”

Nodding shakily, he shifts his hips a little and then Jack is inside him, the sensation so hot and tight that he thinks he might lose it right there.

They kiss sloppily, a tangle of tongues and teeth, messy and uncoordinated until they settle into a rhythm. The wet sounds of their bodies meeting together is loud in the confines of the bedroom, and Jack runs his hands up Brock’s back to feel the flex of muscle. When his fingers brush against the edging of feathers, Brock flinches, tensing up hard.

“Don’t pull ‘em, they’re sensitive.” Brock warns in a low growl, fingers digging into Jack’s stomach out of wariness as he stills on his lap. 

“I wasn’t going to.” Jack immediately tells him, he moves his hands to Brock’s hips to assure him and at first Brock doesn’t exactly untense, but he begins to ride him again. Jack snaps his hips up and extracts a low, pleased moan out of Brock as he presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth in a silent apology.

The mood shifts a little after that, more languid and slow as Brock’s hands rest behind him at Jack’s thighs so he can lean back, undulating his hips while his head falls back with a sigh. He looks good up there, and it gets Jack real close embarrassingly fast. He can’t help himself but pull Brock down, hopes they’ll get another chance in bed together where he’ll go slow and gladly take him apart with just his mouth if he so desires. Jack presses him tight to his chest with a hand between their bodies and fucks into him roughly while sucking a mark onto Brock’s collarbone. 

Brock’s wings flare out when he cums, but Jack’s lost in the blissful way he looks when it happens, eyes closed and swollen lips parted with a cry. It’s one of the most beautiful things Jack has ever seen in his life, and he’s not sure it’ll ever be replaced.

“I knew there was somethin’ about you, Rollins- ” Brock slurs as Jack cleans them up, careful to avoid wings fanned out, slipping back under the covers while Brock sneaks in close and uses his chest as a pillow. He’s oddly more affectionate and indulgent now that he seems to know Jack won’t treat his wings like a plaything. 

Jack can only hum in agreement, taking the chance to brush his fingers through Brock’s sweaty hair, wings tucked around them like a protective shield once they’re both settled in.

He’s not sure who falls asleep first, but when Jack stirs sometime early morning with the sun already up, Brock is still there, his wings still as they are and he watches him drooling lightly against his pec.

It’s disappointing to find Brock gone when Jack wakes up again, but there’s a single blue-grey feather dipped in a deep black and accented with white spots resting on the pillow next to him looking too much like it’s gifted to him to be a molting thing. He picks it up holding it up to the sunlight and runs a finger up the length with a small smile.

He’s not entirely sure of the message, but he knows if they get together again or not, they’ll be okay in the end. 

**Author's Note:**

> I based Brock's wings off the pygmy falcon, they stick with me after seeing a post about them being small but angry lol


End file.
